


Not Bad for the End of the World

by debwalsh



Series: Fictober 2019 [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Falling In Love, Fictober 2019, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-01-27 12:15:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21391984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh/pseuds/debwalsh
Summary: In an America where only one-tenth of the population survives Secretary Pierce’s Insight virus, what are the odds that Bucky Barnes would find himself far from home and falling in love with Steve Rogers?They’ll find each other in every life.Written for Fictober 2019 - each chapter fills a prompt.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Fictober 2019 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1501577
Comments: 13
Kudos: 92





	1. Yes, I Am Aware.  Your Point?

**Author's Note:**

> I am so far behind on Fictober! I’m determined to finish. Thanks to my friends for egging me on ...

Steve opened the door and shooed the dogs out for their morning run.They jostled and nipped at each other, grinning their doggie grins as they rushed out into the cool morning, gamboling down the walkway toward the paddock and the cows grazing there.

The chill wrapped itself around his naked ankles as he stood there in his boxers and an old bathrobe that’d belonged to Gramps. Huh.Where’d summer go already?Soon the last harvest of the year would be coming in, and he’d have to make plans for the winter.

He wasn’t worried about help - there seemed to be a steady stream of people either escaping the desolation of the cities, or headed somewhere not there, who’d be willing to exchange a few days’ work in the fields for a safe place to sleep, fresh food, and a chance to recharge their device batteries before moving on.

No one stayed for long, and no one put down roots.Steve had learned not to get attached to the transient people trying to make sense of the world after.

He wondered briefly if they’d rewrite the calendars.BP and AF.Before Plague and After Plague.Or if they’d find some fancier, less scary way to mark the end of civilization and the start of something new.

Of course, the rest of the world hadn’t suffered the same way that the US had.As the first deaths were reported, Mexico and Canada had closed their borders to US migration.The first international flight to report sickness had been diverted back to US-held territory, where all but two passengers and a flight attendant had succumbed within 24 hours of the first report of infection.

It only spread faster after that, slicing through urban areas, suburban cul de sacs, and remote farming communities and militia bunkers alike.There was no place that was safe from the contagion, not if you lived within US borders.Outside the US, and in any territories or states outside the lower 48, the disease seemed to just evaporate. 

It wasn’t until later that what was left of the public learned that the disease had been weaponized by a rogue division of the US military, acting under Secretary of Defense Alexander Pierce.

Later still the remaining remnants of the American people learned that the weaponized disease had been irradiated by a misfire of Pierce’s Insight system, the much vaunted and insanely costly defense system Pierce had rammed through committees and hearings, much to the consternation of civil liberties advocates and conspiracists alike.

And even later that the reason the disease didn’t extend beyond the US border was the fact that Insight had been turned inward on the US populace, effectively dooming the very country it was meant to protect.

By the time that Pierce was dead from his own manufactured infection, what was left of the American people had little energy left for outrage when it was revealed that Insight worked exactly as it was designed to.In the space of a year, the population of the United States was reduced to less than a tenth of its size, with the highest percentage of losses in the densely populated Northeast, where the disease vector had rapidly and geometrically expanded through the neighborhoods, following the fleeing populace out into the bedroom communities and suburbs.

It had been activated to plague levels by Insight itself, deliberately reducing the population of the United States to less than 10% of its number before the plague.It hadn’t discriminated for social status, financial situation, or even location.Outside the US, the disease resulted in mild symptoms that passed quickly.Inside the Insight zone, the lower 48, the disease was 92.6% guaranteed fatal.

Steve had already left Brooklyn behind before the first victim fell ill.His Ma, Sarah Rogers, was in the last stages of the cancer that ultimately took her from him, and she’d wanted to return home one last time before the sun set for her the last time.So he’d come to the farm that was still tilled by his grandparents, Jim and Margaret Fitzgerald.In Ma’s last months, Steve’s friends would visit for brief periods, bringing comfort and support to both Steve and his Ma.By the time the disease started to appear, he’d already acclimated to the rhythm of farm life.He was settled in the routine by the time his grandparents buried their only daughter.He’d been running the farm for a few months on his own when he’d buried them.

Steve, his health always frail and his immune system always compromised, had somehow weathered the plague that had swept through the country with nothing more than a sniffle.And that was probably more emotional than physical.

His friends Nat, Clint, Sam, Peggy and Peg’s wife Angie had all come out for the memorial service then, each of them asking if they could stay for a while until the panic died down in the cities.

He’d been happy to open the old farmhouse to his friends, his found family.

They’d helped with the farm, creating a charging center for locals to charge devices and batteries as the local grid became more and more unreliable - not so much budget cuts, but understaffing.The farm generated more than enough energy to share, between the wind farm and the solar panels.Pegs and Angie had taken charge of automating ethanol production from the corn crop.Gramps had converted all of his farm equipment and vehicles over to ethanol years ago, a holdover from his days as a hippy and owner of what had been a successful commune.

With their help, he’d turned the farm, his Gramps’s dream, into a fully functional, self-sufficient world unto itself.

But the world beyond started to recover.One by one his friends felt drawn back to the cities, to the remnants of the life they’d left behind.To the siren call to rebuild, regroup.

They’d all drifted back to the shades of their old lives, each with a promise to return someday.

He knew better than to count on it.

They’d lost most of the entertainment industry, and most of the broadcast channels had gone dark.There were a few low-res analog stations, like pirate radio rising from the ashes.CNN had somehow survived and still broadcast a 24-hour news cycle, but breaking news was sporadic and uncommon.But the internet never fully went down.Cell towers might fall into disrepair, and film studios might shutter, but somehow the infrastructure linking the US to the World Wide Web remained intact and functioning. So he and his friends kept in touch by e-mail, and sometimes they could catch enough bandwidth to Skype.Miraculously, YouTube hung on, and content continued to stream there.

Steve wasn’t entirely alone. He had the townsfolk, his trading partners, the folks who came out to charge their devices when the grid stuttered into darkness.So far, it always stuttered back to life, but when it was out, he got to see a lot of people he’d only see in town. 

He was friends with the sheriff, Maria Hill, and he had a direct line to her by radio, something she’d insisted on when his grandparents were still alive.He’d never had any reason to complain about it, especially when he’d been able to call for help when a creep named Rumlow had tried to muscle in on his agrarian haven, and help himself to Steve, too.Maria had arrived, siren blaring, gun cocked, and had quickly subdued and handcuffed Rumlow.Steve didn’t know what happened to him next, and he didn’t really want to know. 

So Steve wasn’t entirely alone.And he wasn’t really lonely, per se.He had the dogs, the cats, the cows, even a few sheep and chickens.They all kept him busy, from before dawn until dusk, when he fell, exhausted, into bed to do it all again.Sometimes he’d take a special bath and dress a little better to take a ride into town in his ethanol fueled Prius, and he’d have a meal at the diner, maybe wander by the community center to take a turn around the floor with a willing partner.

But they were never the kind of partner he was missing.

So he’d say his good nights at the door to the center, climb back into his Prius, and drive silently back to the farm, and dream of someone with eyes the color of the sky, with wavy dark hair like silk between his fingers, lips plush and kiss-bitten as they chased his, and arms strong enough to hold him like he was something precious.

Imagine his surprise when one day there was a knock at his door, and he opened it to reveal his dream made flesh, accompanied by a young girl who looked like she’d seen more tragedy than any child should ever know.

“Hi.Um, the sheriff said you might be looking for help?” his visitor asked, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously.God, even his voice was perfect.

“Uh, yeah, I can always use a hand.You’re not from around here.”

A smirk lit his eyes for a moment, a flash of lightning in stormy gray-blue eyes.“Yes.I am aware.Your point?”

“Bucky!” the girl admonished anxiously, tugging at the frayed cuff of his dark red Henley. 

He glanced down at her with affection, and the smirk morphed into a gentle smile.“S’all right, Becks.”He turned back to Steve with a shrug.“Sorry.Yeah, we’ve been making our way east from Indiana.Finally ran out of gas about twenty miles out of town.”

“You walked all this way?”

“Sheriff gave us a ride,” he answered, hooking his thumb over his shoulder.Steve could see Maria lounging against her cruiser, grinning.

“And she’s ready to take you back if I say no.She’s good that way. ‘Course, she’s also hoping I’ll invite her in for dinner,” Steve added with a sly grin of his own.

“Dinner?” the girl, Becks, repeated hopefully.And his heart broke a little at the hungry look in her eyes, the drawn quality of her skin.This was a kid who hadn’t been eating well for a while. 

Steve had already made up his mind as soon as he’d opened his door, and the fact that Maria had brought them to his his place only confirmed his gut feeling.He stepped back and extended his arm to invite them in, then held up a hand and waved Maria to join them.

“Yeah, dinner.I can put on enough for everyone.If you’re gonna help, you gotta have a decent meal and a good night’s sleep, right?”

“Right?” Becks repeated.“We can stay here?”

“Yep.I got room.And tomorrow, we’ll take some ethanol to your car so you can drive it here.I’ve got a couple of spare adapters so we can retrofit it so it’ll take ethanol on the regular, but it won’t hurt it for a short trip until we get that installed.Hey, Hill,” Steve greeted as Maria sauntered into the house.

“Hey, Rogers.So, can you keep these two busy?”

“Sure can.But first, let’s eat.”

“God, where are my manners?I’m Bucky.Bucky Barnes.This is my sister Rebecca.I call her Becca or Becks.Say hello, Becks,” he instructed, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Hi, Mister -?” she ended uncertainly, waving her fingers shyly.

“Steve.Steve Rogers.Just call me Steve.And welcome.Let’s get you settled, and I’ll get dinner started.”

The kid looked like she might cry, and her brother wasn’t much better.Bucky excused himself to go get their things from Hill’s cruiser while Steve showed Becca to his Ma’s old bedroom.Pegs and Angie had slept there last, so he’d already let go some of the hurt the room once inspired.When he showed her the bathroom with the tub and shower, Becca did start crying.Apparently they’d been making due with sponge baths in abandoned garage bathrooms since Indiana, and she hadn’t had a proper bath in weeks.

He smiled, showed her the collection of bath bombs and pretty soaps his grandmother had made for sale at the old farmers’ market, and left her to enjoy a good long soak.

Walking down the stairs with Hill, he was surprised at the emotion in Hill’s voice when she said, “You done good, Rogers.”

“They’ve been through a lot, huh?” he asked softly.

She nodded.“They’re from Indiana.Reports are that the area they’re from got hit hard.The brother said their parents made it through the first wave, but just barely. Compromised immune systems after.Last spring, Mom got sick with pneumonia, Dad followed.Finally succumbed a couple of months ago.”

“Like my grandparents.”

“Yeah.There are reports of increased incidence of pneumonia, usually fatal.Sounds like we might be seeing a second wave coming.”

“Shit.”

“I’d feel better if you had someone around to keep an eye on you, Rogers.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Thing is, you may not have to.And he sure is pretty.”

They’d gotten back to the main level and the entryway, and Steve watched Bucky carrying a couple of backpacks and dragging two rolling suitcases from the cruiser to his porch.

“Yeah, he sure is.”

Bucky saw Steve looking at him then, and the smile that burst across his handsome face just about knocked the breath out of him. 

Bucky Barnes just might be the death of him.

And oddly, Steve thought he might be okay with that.

&&&


	2. No, and That’s Final.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have another chapter ...

“Do you have a horse?”

Steve looked up from his plate toward the little girl, her eyes wide and hopeful, her cheek smeared with homemade butter.Her brother chuckled and reached over with a napkin and dabbed at the mess, earning him a sisterly scowl.

“Well, do you?Leave off, Bucky,” she complained when Bucky kept wiping.

“You’re acting like you were raised by wolves, Becks.Ma taught you better than that -“

Her face started to crumple with the reminder of what they lost, and Steve was grateful Hill chose that moment to jump into the fray.

“We don’t let Steve have animals that can break him,” she said, then popped a butter-slathered biscuit into her mouth whole.

“Thinking you were raised by wolves, Hill.And no, I don’t have any horses.My Gramps - this was his place - didn’t see the need.I got a tractor if I need to do any heavy work.”

Becca perked up at that.“Ooooh!Can I ride the tractor?”

Bucky snorted.It was unfairly cute, but he shook his head “No,And that’s final.”

“Not ever?”

“Pretty sure that’s what final means.”

“But how’m I gonna be a ranch hand if I don’t ride the tractor?”

“Becks, you can’t assume we’re gonna stay here long -“

The idea of them leaving anytime soon - or any time at all - filled Steve with sudden dread.He ignored the knowing smirk on Hill’s face. Seriously, one drunken evening loaded with true confessions, and she’d been trying to find him a nice gay boy ever since. “It’s okay.You can stay as long as you like.”

Hill snickered behind another biscuit.Seriously, Steve was gonna have to churn a whole new batch of butter after her visit.

Bucky was looking at him curiously, eyes narrowing slightly as though he was suspicious of Steve’s offer.“You don’t even know us.”

“You tried to drive across country in a Prius.I know all I need to know,” Steve answered truthfully.The fact that Bucky Barnes was the cutest boy he’d ever seen was immaterial.Seriously.Shut up, Hill.

But of course, it was physically impossible for Hill not to ladle on the snark. “In other words, you’re a world class dork,” she declared, waving yet another biscuit.Had she gone on a biscuits-only diet?No, she’d tucked into her pot pie and demolished it into the tiniest crumbs of homemade crust.And she kept side-eying the oven, where the pie he’d made was staying warm.Did he have any hope of hiding the ice cream he’d made?

No, he really didn’t.Hill knew all his tells.He knew he’d be sending her home with leftovers and a bottle of Gramps’s last run of hard cider.

“Well, that’s true,” Becca answered with a chuckle.

“Becks!” Bucky admonished.Steve would be hard pressed to complain about the endearing blush that stained his cheeks.

“It is!” Becca shrugged, and, with an eye on Hill, snagged the last biscuit from the basket.Hill turned toward Steve with an arched eyebrow. 

Steve sighed and picked up the basket and went over to the oven, debating over another tray of biscuits, or to release the pie.He’d made his decision so he turned back toward the table.“Well, that’s okay.‘Cos I’m a world class dork, too.We can be dorks together.”

Hill snorted then, almost choking on her latest biscuit, while Bucky turned a million watt smile on Steve.Steve kind of felt like he’d be able to power the farm for a generation or two off the energy from that smile, and stay warm for every winter until the stars died. 

“Now, no more biscuits.Who wants pie?And vanilla ice cream?”

“Oh my God, I might just have to marry you!” Bucky exclaimed, eyes wide as Becca simply stared, open-mouthed.

Steve hoped his heartfelt, “Yes please!” ringing through his head and sizzling through his blood wasn’t as obvious as he feared.But he was pretty sure his heart eyes gave him away, if Hill’s reaction was any gauge. 

Hill smirked even bigger, and leaned back in her seat like a well-fed cat.Well, the well-fed part was certainly true.

&&&

Laden with leftovers, including pie and ice cream and one of those old blue freezie thingies, a bottle of Gramps’s hooch, and a jug of homemade ethanol fuel, Hill walked out with Steve to let the dogs have their nightly potty break.Well, Steve was mostly laden, but Hill carried the hooch like it was the precious thing that it was.

“He’s a nice guy.Pretty, too, like I said,” Hill observed with an underlying chuckle in her voice as they strolled down the gravel driveway toward her cruiser.

“You don’t need to keep trying to be my matchmaker.I’m okay -“

“You’re okay, Steve, I know that.But you could be better.You know you’d like to have someone in your life.And options are pretty slim these days no matter your persuasion.”

“You don’t know -“

“Ask him about his boyfriend,” she said, stopping and pivoting on the gravel.“You think I’d be pushing you at some straight white boy, Steve?He and I had a fairly long talk before I suggested coming out to your place. He told me about what happened back home. About his boyfriend being in the first wave of casualties.About moving out of their apartment and going back home when his folks got sick the first time.So maybe there’s no romance in the cards.But you have stuff in common, and that can be the start of a friendship, right?It can’t hurt to have another friend in this world, right?And I really do worry about you out here all by yourself.”

“You know I’m rarely by myself for long, right?I mean, people come out to charge, or to trade for ethanol, produce, milk -“

“Yeah, and they come right up to your front door to do it.Right into your home.Not everyone is a nice person, Steve.You already know that.”They’d reached the cruiser, and Steve loaded the food into the trunk, and set the ethanol container on the floor of the back seat.

“So what, he’s my bodyguard now?” Steve asked as he straightened up, dusting down his shirt as he did so. Hill opened the front passenger side and settled the bottle in the seat, then carefully positioned the seatbelt to cradle it properly. 

At Steve’s arched eyebrow, she shrugged.“You haven’t taken on your granddad’s liquor tradition so I gotta treat this with the respect it deserves.Maybe this Bucky could help you get the orchards back into cider production.You can’t make any long term plans if you can’t rely on your help.I gotta good feeling about this guy. And that sister could really use some stability.You’re both good people.You both deserve something good in your lives.”

“Yeah, yeah.Stick to your day job, Hill. So their car?”

“I’ll take a ride out with Klein in the morning, and we’ll bring it back.Not like anyone’s gonna steal a car that’s outta gas on the highway, but he did say they had to leave a lot of their stuff behind.That might attract interest.Strangers are still using the highways if they can find gas.”

“Yeah, okay, thanks.Should I have breakfast or lunch ready?”

She smiled then, a wide, genuine smile.“Which comes with bacon?”

He huffed a laugh.“We’ll make it brunch, then.I’ll crack out a couple of rashers from Gramps’s stash.”

She leaned over then and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.“I’ll bring syrup from the McAllisters - they gave me a couple of bottles the other day when I dropped off some insulin for Ada.”

Steve nodded then.Medicine hadn’t dropped off the map, not yet.There were still regional hospitals that operated at low staff levels, and there were still stores of necessary medicines.Pharmaceutical companies might not be running at full capacity in the US, but they were still very much alive in Mexico and Canada.Border barter was becoming a very real part of the US economy.Restrictions had loosened up since the discovery of Pierce’s duplicity, but US money had no value outside of the country, and very little within.Manufactured goods, and especially artisan crafts, seemed to do best in border exchanges.So Hill had organized a group of crafters and local manufacturers to put together a product list that she could send up to the border to arrange for exchanges of needed medicines and materials they couldn’t source locally.

Thing was, Sheriff Maria Hill was more than just local law enforcement.She was the core of civilization in this corner of the state.In a bygone time, she might have been the knight who oversaw the area, the feudal lady of the land.

Steve and everyone in the area owed a lot to her calm, level-headed approach to order.He smiled.“I’ll see if I can find another bottle for you,” he nodded toward the cider.

“Hey, don’t get too excited.That Barnes fellow might like a taste.Of cider.And who knows what else?” she said slyly, then moved around to the driver’s side.“See you tomorrow.Don’t stay up all night talking, Steve.Got a feeling he wouldn’t mind sticking around.”

“Yeah, yeah.See you tomorrow. Oh, and hey - think you could find me some more flour?”

“Flour?”

“Yeah.Might need to make some more biscuits.”

“You got it, Steve.See you then.”

&&&


	3. Can you stay?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh hai! Here’s another chapter.

When he got back to the house with the dogs in tow, he found Bucky standing in the living room, staring at the pictures on the mantle.

The photos there had stood in the same order for as long as he could remember.Gramps and Gramma’s wedding picture.Ma’s graduation from nursing school.Ma and Dad’s wedding.Steve and Macavity, Gramma’s old ginger Tom from when Steve was in grade school.Ma and Steve celebrating Steve’s first pie crust, with Gramps in the background snitching another slice of pie.

“Sorry, I was just looking.Nice family.You grew up here?”

Steve chuckled at that.“Nope.Brooklyn, born and bred.Ma was born here.Went to college and nursing school in New York. Met my Dad there.He died on 9/11, we stayed in Brooklyn.Came here every summer until a couple of years ago.She had cancer.I brought her back here to spend time with my grandparents.We were here when the sickness hit. She and my grandparents are buried out back in the family plot.”

“And you stayed.”

Steve shrugged. “By then, the world had pretty much fallen apart.Didn’t make any sense to me to head back to New York.Not when so many people were escaping at the time.And my friends came for the memorial service, and then they stuck around for a while.Long enough to help me get the farm set up so I could run it on my own.”

“We were heading to New York.Brooklyn, in fact.My Mom’s sister is there, our cousins.Wasn’t anything left back home, not once Mom and Dad were both gone.”

“Yes, Maria told me you lost your boyfriend to the sickness.”

“Yeah. I told her he died first.Truth was we’d been fighting, and I’d moved out.I came back for the last of my stuff, and found him on the couch, dead.Cold.He worked as a flight attendant, traveled a lot.Screwed a lot, too.That’s what we fought over.But ... doctor figured he’d probably been an early infection, but kept pushing through it while he was traveling.Probably infected a lot of other people in the process, too.But when he got home, it was just him, and it caught up with him.Nobody there to see.”

“Not your fault.”

“No.Still feels like it, sometimes.We could be really good.But he’d get on the plane and forget I even existed.What happens on the road stays on the road, he’d say.The road mattered more than home.So, yeah.I’d moved out before he died.Thought we were doing okay after Mom and Dad recovered.Didn’t expect pneumonia of all things to catch up to them.”

“Hill says it’s like another wave coming.Wasn’t just them.My grandparents, too.They got through the disease okay, but when the pneumonia hit, it happened so fast.”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, glancing at the photos on the mantle again.“We brought a few of the family photos with us.Most of it’s on a thumb drive, so we can always print up more.It’s weird.Bits and pieces of the old world are still here.Bits of technology, bits of communities.Just enough to limp along, I guess.I wonder if the rest of the world even realizes we’re still here, or if they’re just waiting for the last gasp.”

“Think maybe they’re afraid it’s gonna mutate.The disease.Nobody wants that at their doorstep.The reports say only 10%, not even, survived.But we’re not out yet.Hill and a few others have kept this area together.My friends - they went back to New York and DC - with the smaller populations, they’re reclaiming green spaces and putting them to work to grow food.They’re greening the urban desert.Pollution - way down.Maybe enough to reverse climate change.”

“You a glass half full kinda guy?”

“Dunno.I think right now I’m a ‘convince myself the world hasn’t turned entirely to shit’ kinda guy.”

“Fair enough.And hey, look, I can’t thank you enough.Just an evening here, and you’ve done so much for Becks.It’s really ... nice ... to have a real roof, and my God, a working shower ... she dropped off to sleep like a normal kid, chattering away about her day and how cute you are -“ he stopped himself, blushing. “Sorry.Her words.”

“You don’t think I’m cute?”

“I didn’t say that.I just ... we’ll be on our way in a few days, if it’s okay with you for us to stay for a bit.Just let us know what we can do to help so we can pay you back for your hospitality -“

“Can you stay?” Steve blurted, feeling suddenly panicked at the idea of the siblings leaving.

“I don’t wanna overstay our welcome.”

“I meant it when I said you could stay as long as you like.I really could use the help.And the company.And Becca - I’m guessing she hasn’t been to school in a while.”

“No, they closed the schools down at the start of the infection.School district was a mess, they never reopened by the time we left.”

“Well, we have a school. There are several facilities, but they consolidated all the grades in one building.Starting over, sort of.But making sure the kids get an education, get trained in the skills they’re gonna need.I teach a couple of classes there.Electives.I mean, it’s a farming community, so there’s a lot of 4H kinda stuff, but trades, too.And humanities.It’s helped the local kids to have structure, some normality.And it’s a solid investment in the future.”

“School.Wow.Becca loved school, it about killed her when they closed down.You sure?”

“Yeah.If you want to.I’m not trying to trap you here or anything.But, you know.Company.A hand with the farm.And ... well, yeah.”

Bucky smiled then, weary, years older than he was, but genuine, from the heart.

And that smile warmed Steve in a way he’d never felt before.

He thought he might be halfway in love with Bucky Barnes already.Maybe more.

“Thanks.You have no idea what this means ... I ... wow.What a great surprise for when she wakes up!Oh, shit, you’re a farmer.We’ve kept you up so late -“

“Not like a boss is checking my timesheet.Don’t have to report to anyone but the cows.And the chickens.And the dogs ...” Steve tailed off, frowning.“Yeah, I guess it’d be a good idea to turn in.Oh, Hill said they’d get your car tomorrow and bring it in.”

“Wow.I guess if we were gonna run out of gas, we couldn’t have been luckier to do it here.”He yawned then, huge and adorable.

“Well, good night then.I think both of us can sleep in until the dogs demand attention.Hill’s not planning on breakfast - I talked her into brunch.”

“Thanks.I ... thanks.” He turned to go toward the stairs and the bedrooms, one foot on the bottom step, hand on the bannister, when he paused, and said softly over his shoulder, “For what it’s worth, I think you’re the cutest boy I’ve ever met.” 

Then he quietly ascended the stairs, leaving Steve to stare, open-mouthed, his inner gay boy screaming, “He likes me!”

&&&


	4. There is a certain taste to it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter quatre.

Steve woke to the sound of snuffling and whining, and knew he wasn’t going to get anymore snooze time.The pups were not going to be denied.Not for the first time, he wondered what it would take to build a doggy door, and how he could keep out raccoons and other curious furry folk.Huh, maybe if Bucky and Becca stuck around, they could work the problem together.

And as Steve shoved his feet into fuzzy slippers and shrugged on his bathrobe, he felt himself warm at the idea, at the same time he mentally slapped himself for getting too attached too quickly.

What if they didn’t choose to stay?

What if the attraction was one-sided?

But ... Bucky seemed pleased at the idea of settling down for a bit, and school for Becca was a big inducement.And he did say he thought Steve was cute ...

“Can I help?”

Steve practically stumbled into the wall at the sound of the voice.Becca, looking fresher and more relaxed than when they arrived yesterday, stood there already dressed in t-shirt and jeans, her feet encased in sensible sneakers rather than the fanciful impracticality of Steve’s fuzzy slippers.

“Huh?” Steve asked eloquently.

“Can I help.With the dogs.I can take them out if you want.”

“Um, how about you help?They might not come to you.Not yet.But yeah, we can do this together, okay?”

She brightened at that, and nodded vigorously as she started to fall in step with him.

“Grab your coat.Can’t afford to catch a chill.”

And that sobered her up immediately.In this post-plague world where pneumonia carried an almost guaranteed death sentence, “catching a chill” was to be avoided at all costs.

“What about you?” she asked, looking askance at Steve’s fluffy footwear.

And yeah, his attire was maybe not such a good idea. Especially if he was going to do his circuit of early morning chores.

“Tell you what - I’ll get myself properly dressed, and you’ll put on a sweater or something, and we’ll meet at the front door in, say, five minutes?”

She grinned and nodded vigorously.

So she did as he said, and scurried to the room he’d given her just as he trudged back to his room.He’d been up later than was normal for him since he’d taken over the farm, his natural nocturnal schedule knocked on its ear by the necessities of a working farm.

&&&

“So, do we get breakfast after the dogs do their thing?” she asked as Steve cajoled the dogs toward the door.

“Nope.Gotta milk the cows and check the hens.”

“Milk?Like, real milk?”

“Like raw milk.My Gramps didn’t believe in pasteurizing.Thought it killed all the good stuff in milk.The barn cats like it right out of the teat,” he added with a chuckle while the dogs ran ahead, sniffing every tuft and stone as they went, as though interlopers in the night had left their scents smudged all over their territory.

“What’s it like?Raw milk?”

“There is a certain taste to it.If the cows eat something like garlic or onion grass, that gets into the flavor of the milk.I’ve learned not to make pudding from the milk or use it on cereal for a few weeks a year, until we’re passed the onion grass.I’ve been playing around with beds of sweeter tasting grass to see if I can improve the taste of the milk.”

“Have you?”

“Eh.Still fiddling.”

He found he liked talking to Becca.Maybe not as much as talking to Bucky, but Becca was a nice kid, curious and generous, too. It would be nice to have her around, watch her grow.Share stuff like milking cows and figuring out grass varieties.

“Hey, so how do you feel about school?” Steve asked as he led her to the barn to show off the girls - the cows - and introduce her to the barn cats.

&&&

By the time Steve and Becca shepherded the dogs back into the house, the aroma of fresh brewed coffee had managed to fill the entire space.“Go wash off the eggs, and then wash your hands, okay?” Steve suggested while he hauled the closed bucket of fresh milk into the kitchen.He set it down carefully at his feet, and just took in the sight.

Becca raced ahead and was already at the sink, rinsing off the eggs and washing her hands, as Bucky leaned back against the counter, his face a mask of utter bliss as he sipped at the mug of coffee cradled in two hands like it was something precious.

Which, Steve supposed, it was.Outside of their little community, imports like coffee and tea, even fruits, vegetables, processed food ... the supply lines had dried up as companies shuttered their operations due to the plague.Not enough people to run companies, not enough people to do the work. Food sat in warehouses and plants, rotting.

Hill had recognized the problem early, and had mounted a number of expeditions to liberate food that would have otherwise spoiled.She’d made efforts to contact the owners in every case, and in almost every one of them, there was no one left to contact.The few who were still alive were grateful to have the food salvaged, and were happy to trade for materials in kind.

It had been the beginning of their local barter economy, as the SOPs of American commerce became obsolete for the world Pierce had created.

But that was neither here nor there.Watching Bucky Barnes enjoy a cup of coffee was a truly religious experience.And having him here, with Becca, in his kitchen, cozy and warm ... well.

Steve would be lying if he didn’t admit to himself how much he liked the domesticity of it all.How much he’d missed having people of his own.How much he liked these people.This person.

Bucky opened his eyes then, saw Steve, and the smile that started in the curve of his lips reached to his eyes and extended out into the most adorable crinkles.

“Sorry,” he stammered, reluctantly pulling the mug away from his mouth.“I haven’t had coffee in ... I dunno.It’s been a while.I saw it there, and I thought you wouldn’t mind -“

“I don’t.It’s there to be drunk.Thanks for getting the pot on - I usually remember to start it up before I go out, but I got distracted by someone’s questions this morning.”

Becca looked over her shoulder and grinned at Steve as she grabbed a colander off the drain rack, and placed the eggs carefully inside.Steve put out his hand for the colander and she turned it over, then focused on washing her own hands.

“Eggs?” Steve asked, hefting the colander with a smile.

“Seriously?I ... wow.Yeah.Yes, please.It’s been ... yeah.It’s been a while.”

“So I’m guessing you guys have been living mostly out of cans and dry goods, huh?” Steve asked as he set the colander down on the counter and helped himself to a mug of coffee.“Oh, I gotta take the milk down to the cold room.I’ll be right back.”

“Milk?”

“I milked a cow, Buck.An actual cow,” she announced gleefully, miming pulling at the teats.“With my own hands!”

“She didn’t do too bad.The cats enjoyed the mistakes,” Steve chuckled as he hefted the big milk jug.“Hey could one of you get the door for me?” he nodded toward the door to the cold cellar. 

Becca was faster than Bucky, and she practically teleported so she could hold the door open as she asked hopefully, “Can I go down with you?”

As much as Steve wanted these siblings to be his new family, they were still getting to know each other.The cold cellar was a family legacy, and one he’d promised Gramps he’d protect. Hill knew about it, but she’d been close to Gramma and Gramps.Her Mom had been one of Ma’s best friends growing up.Sam knew, as did Nat, Clint, Pegs, and Angie.They were family, even if he might never see them again.But as much as he wanted to think of Bucky Barnes as family, he’d only known him less than 24 hours.So ...

“Nah, I got this.You set the table, okay?”

“Hey, didn’t you say Sheriff Hill was coming by for brunch?” Bucky called from the sink.

“Yeah.Knowing her, she’ll show up in the next half hour and just hang out while I keep serving her food.Where she puts it, I got no idea.Be right back.”

&&&


	5. Listen, I can’t explain it, you’ll have to trust me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, a bit of intrigue!

The Fitzgerald “cold cellar” had started out as a fully functional bomb shelter, where Gramps and Gramma and half the community could have lived comfortably for decades if the bomb had really been dropped like so many feared back in the late ‘50s and early ‘60s.There’d been no duck and tuck for the Fitzgeralds - Gramps’s family had built an entire second home and then some at the start of the nuclear age, and Gramps and Gramma had continued to supplement it with new tech almost up until the end.And Gramps had never stopped his preparations, leaving Steve with freezers - many and large - stocked with food, including meats, fruits, vegetables, dairy products.He also had rooms filled with wine, cider, even homemade vodka, and even beers.That wasn’t even counting the rooms full of dry goods, and squirreled away building and tech materials.

The farm has served as a commune in the ‘60s, with Gramps and Gramma as the heads, but as people had drifted away from the lifestyle, they’d continued to husband the land and resources, stockpiling against a future they hoped would never arrive.And when it did, they’d left it all to Steve.

On top of it all, Gramps had earned an engineering degree, and had worked over the decades to make the farm fully self-sufficient.Solar panels and a wind farm generated electricity that he’d banked in large, environmentally friendly batteries.The farm had its own well water, and Gramps had developed a self-contained system of water treatment, with the gray water cleansed and repurposed to the fields and gardens.The loss of infrastructure had barely registered here.Gramps had even invested in a communications tower, so the farm remained connected to the outside world even as communities around him were cut off.

Hill had warned Steve early on not to let people know about the storehouse he lived over, or the technological marvels Gramps had developed or invested in.In the post-plague economy, Steve was extraordinarily rich - equivalent to a one-percenter before the demise of American post-industrial civilization.He was the dragon presiding over his hoard of food, wine, and materiel in a world that had lost the ability to create its own.

That would change, Steve believed.They’d figure it out.They’d build a better country.Eventually, Mexico and Canada would lift the barriers to international movement.The skies would reopen.The people of the United States would survive and find a better way.Maybe reclaim their national soul in the process.

But that was in the future.In the meantime, people were learning how to do without, how to create from scratch, how to do things a new way.How to do without.Some where more successful than others.Not everyone who’d survived the plague was civilized, or respectful, or willing to work together to secure a future.

In the meantime, Steve’s stores could spell the difference between survival and death for their community, so Hill wanted the existence kept secret.In case they needed it.In hopes they wouldn’t.In the meantime, they agreed that small withdrawals would be used to help barter for materials the community needed.Everyone could see the wind farm and solar panels, so they agreed that Steve would allow people to use the energy in exchange for bartered goods.The same for some of his produce and milk. 

Gramps would have been proud, he thought. 

And Steve would respect the value of the cache entrusted to him.Hill must have thought Bucky and Becca were trustworthy, otherwise she wouldn’t be pushing so hard for Steve to consider Bucky as a potential ... what?Bedmate?Boyfriend?Fuck buddy?

He could use a friend.He missed Sam.He missed Pegs, too.He missed them all.As he heard laughter filter down through the closed door, footsteps of ... more arrivals, yes.

Then he heard the door wrench open, Hill’s voice call out, “Wait!” and feet thunder down the stairs as Bucky’s voice announced, “Steve, Hill’s here with my car -“

And then he stopped suddenly, poised on a step, staring around him in wonder at the maze of rooms branching off from the main one where Steve stood.He glanced at the massive stainless steel freezers and refrigerators, the full shelves that stretched everywhere that wasn’t occupied by an appliance.

It was a good thing this all ran off power generated by the panels and wind farm.It would be a helluva electric bill, otherwise.

“Wha-what’s all this? Are you some kinda militia person?”

Steve grimaced at the suggestion.Like there’d be weapons down here.Guns didn’t build a future.Gramps would never have allowed them.

But Bucky was waiting. And Steve didn’t want to lie, but he also wasn’t ready yet to tell the whole story.So instead, he answered, “Listen, I can’t explain it, you’ll have to trust me.But my Gramps ... he was a hippie from the ‘60s.This was a commune at one point.He -“

“It’s okay, Steve. It’s your place.I don’t have any claim on your secrets.”

Steve heard the measured footfalls of Hill coming down the stairs behind Bucky.She paused right behind Bucky, smiling pleasantly.But Steve knew that look - pleasant until she had to be unpleasant.“We good here?” she asked with a brittle kind of good humor.

“We’re fine,” Steve replied, wondering if they really were.But Bucky was right in one aspect - he really didn’t have any claim over Steve’s secrets.Even if Steve wanted him to.

“Well, Rogers, since we’re down here - I think you promised me bacon?”

“Bacon?” Bucky breathed, eyes wide and mouth practically drooling.

“Yeah.Gramps made sure we could survive a nuclear winter down here,” Steve said then, turning toward the closest freezer.

“Oh!I get it. This is a fallout shelter!Like in that movie.”

“Movie?”

“Yeah, um, back when Brendan Fraser was a babe.Um ... Blast from the Past! His crazy Dad built this fallout shelter that was practically a city under the house, and -“

“Yeah.Yeah, that’s it exactly,” Steve answered, looking toward Hill, whose eyes widened comically.“Wow, I don’t think I’ve seen that flick -“

“I’ll find it at the library and bring it over next time I’m out.Could be a cute date movie, actually.”

Steve responded to that the only way he knew how.He threw the frozen package of bacon at Hill, who caught it handily with a toothy grin.

And miraculously, the tension that had started to build dissolved, just like that.Only to be replaced by a sudden nervousness over the possibility of a “date movie,” especially when Bucky started to throw out other titles as the three of them made their ways back up to the kitchen.

So Bucky Barnes was a rom-com queen.Who knew?

&&&


	6. It’s not always like this.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The joy of world-building ...

Hill and Klein hung around for a few hours, chatting, exchanging news and eating.And eating some more. It was kind of like living with Hobbits.Steve was half-convinced neither of them ate anywhere but Steve’s place.Klein was a nice guy about Steve’s age, with a snarky sense of humor and an abiding - and now wistful - love of tech.Steve suspected Klein came out as often as he did because he was enamored of the energy generated at his place, the communications tower Gramps had built, and the fact Steve had a stable connection to the internet.

No matter, they were both pretty good company, and the easy banter engaged both Bucky and Becca, letting Steve get to know them both better, and without having to carry the burden of conversation on his own.He half-suspected that Hill knew he needed to bounce off other people while he sussed Bucky out.

So the conversation was convivial, and the food was excellent, even if Steve thought so about his own cooking.Since the plague, Steve had learned not to pretend he wasn’t good at something. Skills and talents were as much currency in the modern world as his raw milk, and the resources stored beneath the house.He’d been a decent cook before Ma’s illness, and he’d honed his skills to prepare meals that tempted her feeble appetite, her taste buds ravaged by the the meds and chemo.He’d learned to make meals with enticing aromas, delicious flavors, and exciting appearance.He’d also learned to make Gramma’s classic recipes, and as he’d hoped to keep his friends close, he’d upped his game to create even more adventuresome fare.

When it was just Steve, he lived off meals tucked in the freezer.There was plenty of good stuff to be found there, and some of it - especially the meals crafted by his Gramma before she passed - gave him a sense of comforting nostalgia.Sometimes he’d whip up a batch of something special, and then bank it in the freezers for a future craving.But when he had guests, he would let himself run free, losing himself in the creativity he could bring to the kitchen when suitably inspired.

So Steve didn’t mind that Hill and Klein seemed to have hollow legs when Steve put plate after plate of food on the table.He didn’t mind that he spent a good chunk of the late morning and early afternoon shuttling between the stove, the refrigerator, and the table.He didn’t mind at all when Bucky would catch his eye and smile at him, or when Becca’s eyes grew so big it was like cartoons come to life. 

As he felt warmed and embraced in his kitchen, serving good food to friends old and new, Steve recognized that he had a tendency to love with food.But the love that poured back to him was worth the effort, the pleasure and the contentment his food created suitable payment.

The feeding frenzy was starting to calm, and Steve began to organize dishes in the sink, listening to the conversation and offering his own contributions as the spirit moved him.He was filling the sink with soapy hot water, and rolling his sleeves up when Bucky came over, his face alight with that smile that crinkled the lines around his eyes. “You wash, I’ll dry?” he offered as he snagged the dish towel off its ring at the sink.

“Uh, yeah, sure.Thanks,” Steve replied, a little off balance at the kind offer. 

“Don’t tell me I’m a guest, Steve.Becks and I plan to carry our own weight, you know.Our folks didn’t raise freeloaders, you know,” Bucky said, as he took the first dish from Steve and dried it thoroughly before setting it in the drain rack.

“I didn’t - um, I don’t think -“

“Then don’t look so weirded out when I offer to pitch in,” Bucky replied with a grin.“Trust me, I don’t take any of this for granted.Finding you, finding this place, these people ... this is Heaven, Steve.Pure and simple.I know that ‘cos I’ve seen hell.”

Steve set the dish he was washing back down in the sink, letting his hands drift in the hot water.“I’m sorry.I didn’t think ... of course you’ve experienced things I haven’t -“

“Nah.Don’t sell yourself short.Hill mentioned you’ve been on the road with her since your Ma and then your grandparents died.You’ve been out there.You’ve seen.It’s a different world than what we knew.Raw.Dangerous, even.Definitely scary, and not in a comfy schlocky horror film way.I don’t begrudge you having a safe place to come home to, Steve.I’m grateful for it.‘Cos if you hadn’t, I wouldn’a met you, right?And I wouldn’t have a chance at Heaven.And Becca ... look at her.”

“It’s not always like this,” he shrugged toward where Hill and Becca were laughing at something Klein said.“Usually it’s just me.”

“Well, that’s okay, too,” Bucky said then with a warm smile.

And Steve had the very real feeling that Bucky meant that, and he couldn’t help the smile the spread outward from his core.

&&&


	7. What if I don’t see it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forward motion?

Over the next few days, Hill took Bucky and Becca into town so they could take care of mundane matters like registering to vote (“I swear we drove 1,000 miles, and there was no government to speak of.Just creepy people hanging out at the side of the road. Gangs, maybe.Never been so scared in my life.Not for me.For Becca.To find a place that still believes in democracy?I never expected it.”) and signing up for school (“Can I be a cheerleader?” “Since when do you want to be a cheerleader?”“Since there’s nobody left to be a cheerleader.”). Hill introduced them both to the library - still serving the public as well as they could, despite the lack of resources and the connections of the inter library system.But they were on the beneficiary list of Hill’s’ excursions to the Canadian border, so they had some surprisingly current books and films.Bucky was happy to sign up for a library card, and his first choice was the ‘90s flick Blast from the Past.Hill thought that was funny, but she didn’t tease.Much.

Becca was stunned to find the library had a section for teens to meet after school, an actual social life outside of their car.When she wound her arms around Bucky’s mid-section and whispered against his chest, “Did we die and go to Heaven?” Bucky didn’t really have an answer for her.

He was wondering himself.

Somehow this small community had managed to retain its soul and its identity, keeping the wandering thugs at bay and maintaining a semblance of order and civility that had seemed lost to a bygone era during their trek across the country.

“How do you keep it together?” he’d asked Hill softly while Becca was poring over the collection of video games - also recently augmented from Canada.

“Determination.Everyone’s agreed, what we have is worth preserving.Not the crap of the old country, the hate and the division.But community.Education.Simple pleasures.Taking care of our own.We can work together and we can make a good present and a better future.It’s not entirely a democracy, but it’s the best we’ve been able to cobble together from the past.We’ll keep working on it.”

“Nobody’s tried to take over?”

“Oh.They’ve tried,” she answered with a flat voice that left him feeling chilled from the marrow out.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the reality on the other side of that statement.But when he looked over at the childlike delight on his sister’s face, he knew that if he had to, he’d be standing right next to Hill to defend what they had.

“So.Let’s talk Steve,” she suggested brightly, but Bucky could tell this was going to be a serious conversation.

&&&

Over the next few weeks, Becca settled into school, eager to learn and even more so to make friends.The plague had showed no favoritism, cutting through all ethnicities, age groups, economic tiers.That translated into a school that now covered a wider geographic area to assemble much smaller classes.Some of the teachers were local, but more of them were like Bucky - transplants looking for safety in a community.There wasn’t a school district any longer, but a committee of volunteers who oversaw a general educational plan.The goals of the school had become broader, covering academic courses as well as practical.Hill ensured that gender roles were abolished - all students were required to take home ec, shop, and motor vehicles maintenance, not to mention animal husbandry and farm techniques.Her goal was to prepare the next generation to function at peak efficiency in this new world.Everyone else was along for the ride.

While Becca was in school - driven in by Bucky or Steve, or picked up by Hill or Klein when they were on patrol - Bucky learned to help Steve in everything he threw at him.Bucky wanted to be useful. He wanted to earn a place in Steve’s home.In Steve’s life.Despite Hill’s exhortations, he never suggested more.And Steve seemed too self-conscious to make any kind of move. 

So the attraction each felt for the other remained an unspoken but very much present force hovering nearby.

But that didn’t mean that life was universally awkward.They got on well, they made each other laugh.They developed shorthand between them that made any task go smoother and quicker.When Hill organized locals to come out and help with the harvest - each paid in a pre-agreed allocation of harvest and stored bounty - Bucky had a chance to see just how simpatico he and Steve had become when he saw how Steve struggled to communicate in more traditional ways.

They didn’t always stay at the farm.They went into town to pick up Becca from school, and they’d stay to have a meal at the diner.The diner, like everyone else, operated on the barter economy.Baked goods and cooked meals were currency, and even farmers liked to eat somebody else’s cooking once in a while.And folks who didn’t have much in the way of stuff to offer could parlay services to food and necessities.And the local churches were ready and able to step in for those who had need but no means.

It was weird how much was accomplished without benefit of money or credit cards.It was inspiring to see how the community formed, banded together, and took care of its own.

Bucky never stopped feeling lucky.He never took for granted what he and Becca had stumbled into.

He kept in touch with his aunt in Brooklyn, having found he could Skype with her using Steve’s tower to connect him to what existed of the Internet in this part of the country.Truth be told, she’d looked more relieved than anything when Bucky told her he and Becca were going to stay where they were..

“We’re turning parks into gardens, farms to raise chickens and stuff.But it’s slow going.The dry goods and canned stuff only goes so far.People have to keep their pets on leashes, can’t let them out to run on their own.You never know when someone might see a dog and think lunch, you know?We’re gonna bounce back, I know we are.But yeah, you kids are better off there.But keep in touch, yeah?I don’t want to lose you.”

Even reduced to 10%, the population of New York was still bigger than farmers in the city could feed.His aunt talked of trucks and even vans coming into the city to sell produce, eggs, even meat.But people had to take care - some of it was spoiled or worse. 

So Bucky cherished the kindnesses he enjoyed, the bounty and the community.The hard work kept the noise in his head at bay, and even though he almost always worked with Steve, he was too tired to dwell on how much he liked him, how much he’d like to have more.

At least that’s what he thought.

&&&

“Damn, the pair of you.You’re pining so much, you’re dripping sap.You’re the Sappy Boys.I don’t know why you just don’t tap that.He’s cute, he likes you, you’re cute, you like him. What’s wrong with this equation?” Hill demanded as she drove the big delivery van full of produce from the farm on its way to barter for manufactured materials to trade at the border. Bucky was along for the ride to help offload, while Steve stayed behind tinkering in his Gramps’s cidery.He’d promised not to do anything explod-y while Bucky was away.

“I don’t think he’s really interested.Not really.He’s never said -“

“And he never will.Back when we had such things, the #MeToo website?They had Steve’s picture under the definition of ally.Just kidding, but they might as well have.He will never do anything to make you feel beholden.He will never abuse his position as ‘your boss’,” she told him with exaggerated air quotes.He worried that her hands were not on the wheel, but the road was eerily empty as they made their way across county.

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“He sees you as vulnerable.He could press you for sexual favors in exchange to letting you - and especially Becca - live under his roof.”

“He’s not like that.It’s not like that -“

“That’s Steve.He’s not gonna do something that’s even remotely like sexual harassment.Or harassment of any kind. Steve is too uptight - and upright - for his own good.You’re just gonna have to jump his bones, Barnes.”

“I, what?”

“You’re gonna have to take matters - and Steve - into your own hands.”

Bucky snorted at that.“Like what?”

“Maybe you should think about asking Steve for a date.He’s dying for it, Barnes.”

“What if I don’t see it?I mean, we’re together every day.Steve isn’t interested in me.I mean, maybe objectively he sees me as attractive, but not enough to -”

“Kid, he looks at you, and he vomits heart eyes.I’d say he’s halfway in love with you, and he’s gonna suffer in silence pining into an existential crisis before he’d ever say or do anything to make you uncomfortable.You’ve gotta let him know you’re interested.Take the initiative.Declare your intentions so he knows it’s okay to be interested.Do I have to make this an order?”

“I -“

She sighed theatrically.“Fine.It’s an order.I order you to date Steve Rogers.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Well.Obviously there will be consequences.”

“Consequences.”

“Yep. Consequences.”

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come!


	8. I never knew it could be this way.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which plans are laid, decisions are made, and a future is forged.
> 
> This fills my Fictober 2019 day 13 prompt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Communication. Who knew?

By the time the first frost set in, Becca had settled into a comfortable routine at school - classes, shared projects, after school activities, and even friends.When she came home excitedly jabbering about a sleepover at one of the neighboring farms, Bucky was understandably nervous, but Hill took the opportunity to butt in, as always.

“Hendersons.Good people.Jennifer lost her brother and her grandparents to the plague.Ma nearly bit it with the pneumonia, but she pulled through. I’ll be happy to pick up Becca - got some other kids I promised I’d shuttle over.”

“Since when is the chief of police a shuttle service?”

“Since the sheriff,” she accentuated the word, “cares about kids getting where they’re going safely.Not everyone had enough gas these days for entertainment purposes.I worked it out with Grace - Jennifer’s Ma.It’s Jennifer’s birthday, and she’s always wanted a big sleepover.I take care of getting the girls to and from, Grace is going to make me a couple of nice quilts I can use in barter.It never hurts to build up some inventory on things people might want.”

Bucky knew from his excursions with Hill that she meant that seriously.The sheriff’s office had a storage area, meant for evidence and personal effects of prisoners, that she now used to maintain an inventory of physical goods that could be used for barter.She’d been amassing blankets, quilts, and afghans for the past couple of months - ostensibly for barter, but Bucky was convinced it was for people in her charge who needed help with the cold.

“Okay, you vouch for this shindig, I’m grateful to let Becca have a night off with friends.Thanks.”

“Oh, not so fast, lover boy.Your charge for me taking care of the kid is you’re gonna do that date with Steve.”

“I -“

“Say, yes, ma’am, thank you ma’am.Come on, Barnes, say it - it’s the only answer I’m gonna accept.”

“Why are you so invested in Steve’s love life?”

“Is that a serious question? I mean, really?Besides the fact he’s a friend - Steve may have only visited here as a kid, but I’ve known him most of his life.Most of my life.And he’s good people - he comes from good people.The best.And he deserves to be happy - he’s had enough pain and trouble in his life.So besides that, he’s an important ally.But mostly ... mostly, I’m a sucker for a good rom com, the happily ever after ending.I’ve always had a good feeling about you two.I like to see people happy,” she added with a deadpan expression.

“I wish Steve felt that way.”

“Deep inside that crotchety exterior, he does.You just gotta show him that.Right?So, I’ll pick up Becca around 6:30 - Grace is planning dinner for the horde around 7 or so.I might be sticking around for some of her famous pot roast.Oh - if there’s any fresh bread to be had, that’d be a nice thing for Becca to bring.”

“On it.”

“And butter.Can always use butter.”

“How much?” Bucky asked with a sigh.Hill just grinned.

&&&

The sleepover was still a couple of days away, but Becca was already working feverishly on the gift she was planning to give the birthday girl.The loss of mass manufacturing meant that malls disappeared from the mercantile landscape, and with it, baubles and frippery for the modern teen.So Becca was making her own homemade clay beads, decorating them in her friend’s favorite colors. Once they were baked and sealed, she’d string them on cords to make a personalized set of matching bracelet and necklace.

Bucky thought it was sweet, and Steve had happily coached her on colors, sharing some of his precious art supply stock with her so she could make the beads something special.

“You’re gonna be in demand to design everybody’s jewelry,” Steve commented, reaching over to ruffle her hair.

Becca squinted at him then, tongue caught between her teeth.“D’you think this is something I could make to help out?You know, for Sheriff Hill’s barter?”

“Hmm.I dunno.But there’s that holiday craft fair coming up, remember?Maybe you could make up some extra to trade there.Never know ...”

“Ooh, I like that idea, Steve!I’ll do that - I need to get presents for you and Bucky and Maria - yeah!I like that a lot!”

Steve grinned at her as he turned away toward where Bucky was making dinner.“Smells good, Buck.Gotta say, it’s a treat to come home and have dinner nearly ready.”

“Hey, least I can do.Thanks for encouraging Becks, helping her out.I can’t get over how good she’s doing.After everything that’s happened ... well, I worried.I don’t so much anymore.We got you to thank for that, Steve.”

“Nah, she’s lucky to have you as a big brother.You give her all she needs,” Steve added absently as he snagged a spoon and stole a bit of Bucky’s sauce to taste.“Hmmm.Damn, that’s good.Definitely spoiling me.”

“I’d like that.”

“What?”

“To spoil you.”

“Yeah, right,” Steve scoffed, but the pink on his ears and down his cheeks told a different story.

Bucky reached out then, touched Steve’s wrist and drew him closer.“I mean it.I really like you, Steve.I’d like ... I’d like to date you.”

“Buck -“

“Steve.Seriously.We’ve been dancing around this for months.I was thinking the night Becca’s got her sleepover, we could, you know, have a date.A date night.Do something date-like.”

“Um.”

“Are you telling me I’ve read this wrong?That you don’t actually like me ... like that?”

“Not exactly.You’re amazing, Buck.But what we have - it’s good.I don’t wanna ...”

“What?”

“I don’t wanna change what we have.It’s good this way, don’t you think?”

“What if we could have more?”

“What if we ruined what we have?”

“Do you have so little faith in me, in us?” 

“In me, maybe.I wasn’t the best boyfriend.”

“Yeah, but what if I told you that based on what I’ve seen so far, you’re the ideal boyfriend for me?”

“Seriously, Buck ... i, Uh -“

“Look, if you really don’t want to date me, if you really don’t want to explore who we can be together ... I’ll respect that, Steve.But don’t reject it out of some misplaced concept of honor or chivalry. I’m not suggesting we get together out of a sense of obligation or because I feel it’s expected - I’ve been attracted to you since the moment we met, you make me happy in ways I never thought possible - I never thought it could be this way, living with someone and building a future together.But I want more, and I think you do, too. Don’t we owe it to ourselves to let ourselves - let each other - have that?”

“I ... I just don’t know, Buck.I’m not sure ...”

“Well, I am.I’m sure.So, I’m gonna set up that date.The night of Becca’s sleepover.Show up if you want to.If you don’t ... I won’t ask again, I promise.”

&&&

In the days leading up to Becca’s sleepover, she grew more excited as Steve and Bucky seemed to grow more distant, more strained.

Bucky was beginning to wonder if Steve weren’t sabotaging the ease of their relationship to avoid the issue of potentially dating.He considered briefly rescinding his invitation, but decided he could be as bullheaded as Steve.He wanted more.He believed Steve did, too.And dammit, they deserved more.

They’d never know if they could be more if they didn’t try.

But the way that Steve seemed to be avoiding him ... 

No, Bucky was committed.

&&&

“You sure?I can drop her off when I’m finishing up my deliveries.”

“I’m sure.Hill said she’s ferrying some of the other girls.It’s part of the experience, bonding with the other girls on the way to the party.If Becca shows up up with you, then she’s not part of the group the same way.Besides, I’m hoping you’ll get home a little early tonight.Just you and me, pal.Date night, remember?”

“Buck -“

“I’m counting on you, pal.Don’t let me down.”

“I dunno -“

“Tell me you have absolutely zero interest in me and I’ll stop, Steve.”

“I -“ Steve’s mouth worked soundlessly, but he didn’t say the words.He didn’t say he had no interest in Bucky.

“Great, I’ll have the music playing.Something slow.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up at that, and the expression on his face was stupidly adorable.Part hope, part fear, part disbelief.

“I’ll be here, Steve.Waiting.For you.”

“Buck -“

“Sooner you get started, sooner you get home.”

“I, uh, yeah.”

&&&

Bucky had the table set for two, with candles ready to light as soon as it got dark.He had a playlist set up - lots of old standards, soft, romantic.Slow danceable.The idea of finally holding Steve in his arms made Bucky feel deliciously fluttery, excited, and full of joyful anticipation.

Assuming Steve didn’t just stand him up.

He meant what he said.If Steve didn’t show, he wouldn’t ask again.He supposed he was forcing the issue, setting the date up in their home.Steve’s home.But he wanted this just for the two of them.If it didn’t work out, he didn’t need an audience.If it did, then it was precious and he didn’t want to share.

Shrugging, he went back to work on preparing dinner.He’d thought long and hard about the menu, settling on dishes that Steve liked but wouldn’t make for himself.A couple of finger foods, stuff they could feed each other if the mood hit.A bottle of wine that didn’t come from Steve’s own cellar, something Bucky had traded from Hill.It’d only cost him another ride-along on her barter circuit, providing muscle to shift trade goods and load the truck.Worth every minute to be able to offer Steve something new. 

Hill arrived on schedule to pick up Becca, who had practically vibrated into a new dimension in her excitement.Hill found it all very amusing, and nodded for her to join the others in the van.Then she paused to check in with Bucky.

“Where’s Steve?”

“Making deliveries.”

She looked around at the setting Bucky had created.“Nice.Becca’ll be fine.You boys enjoy yourselves, okay?”

Glancing around, Bucky felt his resolve crack, and he couldn’t help the wounded sound that erupted out of him.“He’s not interested, Maria.He keeps dodging me, this date’s put a strain on our relationship.I’m not sure -“

“Steve is being Steve.You’ll win him over.”

“And if I don’t?”

The ever-present smirk slid off her face, and she was serious, somber even, when she looked at him.“Then he’s dumber than I thought.And I’m sorry if I’ve misled you.But I don’t believe I have.I may come off like an asshole, but I’m really not.Much.I want the best for you.Both of you.I think that’s each other.But if I’m wrong, then I apologize.Just ... try?I really do have a good feeling about you two.I’d hate to see you miss out because Steve’s a prickly pain in the ass.”

“Hey, watch it.That’s my future husband you’re calling prickly.”

“Yeah, but he’s still a pain in the ass.”Then she did something unexpected, and leaned over to plant a kiss on his cheek.“Be good to each other.Everything else will follow.”

He smiled as she settled her cynical facade back in place like the armor it was, and sauntered out the front door with a little wave.

Be good to each other.Yeah.

He could do that.

&&&

Steve he finished his deliveries an hour ago.The Prius hummed as it generated its own energy, barely using any fuel as Steve drove around more or less aimlessly around the countryside, putting off going home.

Home to Bucky.

Home to their date.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to date Bucky.He did.Boy howdy, he did. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t find Bucky attractive.Because wow.

It was really that he couldn’t believe that Bucky - beautiful, funny, incredibly talented and impossibly sexy Bucky genuinely found Steve attractive.

It was just because they were the last gays standing, that was all.Someone else came along - because of course they would - and Bucky’s attention would stray.

And Steve couldn’t bear that. 

So, better never to be a thing than to lose it.

But ... what if?

Steve pulled over onto the verge, and let the car idle for a moment before he turned off the ignition.

What if it was real?What if they could have a future together?What if they really were meant for each other?

What if he was blowing his chance at real happiness?

What if Bucky meant it when he said he’d never ask again?

What if this was the last straw, and Bucky would think about moving on?

What if Bucky left?

Steve balled up his fists and pounded them against the steering wheel.He tipped his head back and screamed his frustrations until he was hoarse.

What if he just faced up to not just his fears, but his emotions? His desires?

Because no matter how he might try to avoid it, the truth was that Steve Rogers loved Bucky Barnes.

He ... loved ... Bucky.

He loved Bucky.

He glanced at the clock on the dashboard and cursed.

Becca had left for her sleepover a couple of hours ago.It was nearly 10 o’clock.He’d been avoiding going home for hours.

Bucky would’ve given up on him by now.

But ... what if?

&&&

The house was quiet and dark when Steve arrived, carefully opening the door and gently closing it behind him.He didn’t call out, didn’t break the the silence.He pulled off his scarf and shrugged out of his coat, leaving them piled on the arm of the sofa Gramma had loved so.Then he gingerly tiptoed his way toward the dining room and kitchen.

The candles had all but guttered entirely, but they still flickered gamely, casting a warm glow around the room, accentuating shadows in some areas, illuminating little vignettes of the lives lived in these rooms in others.A photo here, a memento there.In Gramma’s old plate glass mirror, they looked a bit like twinkling stars, if he squinted a bit.

Steve could smell the delicious aromas of a meal made with love, cool now, but tempting nonetheless.The dining room table was made up with a tablecloth and linens, Gramma’s best china and the good silver.And he could hear it now, the soft strains of a big band playing a slow song ... a song to dance to with the right partner.

And there he was, face smushed where it rested on his crossed forearms, his Cupid’s bow mouth slightly open and his breath whistling.The lamplight cast his sleeping face into relief - sharp cheekbones, straight nose, lashes to die for, hair mussed in sleep.

He was beautiful.The most beautiful thing that Steve had ever seen.And Steve loved him.

Steve loved him.

Steve reached out to smoothe his hair back from his forehead, his thumb lingering over his hairline as he marveled at how soft his hair was, how warm his skin.

A little sound, maybe a whimper, maybe a sigh.Steve started to pull his hand back and then he stopped, pushed his fingers into Bucky’s hair, and gently carded it.It was strangely soothing to feel the soft hair moving between his fingers, to feel the warmth of Bucky’s skin.

Bucky’s eyes fluttered open, a crease forming between his brows as he registered the discomfort of sleeping hunched over the dining table.Then his eyes opened and he saw Steve sitting there, his fingers in Bucky’s hair, and the frown gave way to a burgeoning smile.

“You’re back,” Bucky breathed through that smile.

“You waited for me,” Steve whispered as his hand drifted down to caress Bucky’s cheek, run his thumb gently over Bucky’s lower lip.“I had a date,” Steve replied, answering that smile with one of his own.And when Bucky lifted his head, Steve leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss against Bucky’s lips, earning him a gasp, and yes, that was a whimper.And then Bucky straightened, lifted his hand to cup Steve’s cheek, and the kiss grew deeper.

After a few minutes, Bucky broke the kiss and leaned back in his chair, studying Steve’s face.“This mean what I hope it means?”

Steve nodded.“I’m with you, Buck.All in.I can’t promise I won’t be stupid in future.But I’m with you.Til the end of the line.”

Bucky’s answering smile could power whole cities into the next century, Steve was sure.And the warmth in his chest, that spread out from his core to set his sense on fire?That would warm the world at least as long.So Steve did the only thing that was left to him - he kissed Bucky Barnes again.And again.And they might have heated up a meal, had a dance or two, and all the while, they kissed, and held hands, and let themselves finally be what they were always meant to be - together.

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so this tale comes to an end ... although maybe we’ll stop by periodically to visit with these beautiful boys.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
